Long Branched Poems
Long Branched Poems. Below are the most popular long Branched by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Branched poems by poem length and keyword.
Farewell to you, ornamental russet leaves of Fall,
and your crimson and golden windswept tresses.
You danced to bamboo flutes at Summer's ball
while wearing tangerine and sage green dresses.
You whirled and twirled happily before you fell
at the rooted feet of majestic oaks and elms,
growing on every mountain, in valleys and dell.
Your varied mantle of blush always overwhelms.
Autumn stripped the limbs where you used to cling
to branched hands and fingers reaching to the sky.
There you whispered welcome to birds on the wing.
But pines keep their leaves. I'm left wondering why.
I should never question Mother Nature's reasons
for changing the clothing on trees like paper dolls,
or covering them with blankets in Winter's season
when she gifts us with beauty in crystal snow falls.
I'll look for you when Springtime bestows new birth
unless Jack Frost decides to stick around and stall.
You'll adorn the oaks and elms throughout the Earth
until you take flight again in the brisk days of Fall.
One can hardly take a breath at all
For brilliance splashed against the wall
has reasoned with a summer's soul
and paints the season with vibrant gold
The brittle breeze as evening falls
is mixed with smoke from burning piles
of leaves we raked one afternoon
stacked high with colors bold and wild
Smoke whirls up high above the house
Each silent garden laid to rest,
As the close of day leaves nothing left
but crimson skies, and colors red
We can hear the music of the trees,
with rustling sounds, stained red and tan
While wind seeks out the apple tree,
And scents the air with celestial zest
The mighty oak drops acorns, freed,
Brown squirrels have scurried to their nest
They've stored a harvest from the earth,
We'll watch as geese form silhouettes
And when the trees are barren branched,
A world takes rest, to start anew
While autumn prances through the hills,
With stain ablaze in amber hues
The heart is filled with peace of mind,
As embers warm our home tonight
While weary gather near the flame,
This year at end, we bid adieu
One can hardly take a breath at all
For brilliance splashed against the wall
Has reasoned with a summer's soul
To paint the season edged in gold ......
__________________________________
10/27/16
Contest: Autumn Fire
Sponsor: Mystic Rose
Line of inquiry:
“since thoughts speak in past tenses,
drop mind, rely on senses,
embracing and releasing,
pain pangs and pleasure pleasing”
My thoughts are swimming against the current,
seeking, ever searching for threads into the past
that will seamlessly stitch them with the present
as though they were sewn by the hand of God.
I laud my memories, fondly embracing each of them
as they illuminate the faces of loved ones.
I still hear their laughter, dry their tears of sorrow,
remembering when I turned their frowns into smiles.
But in reminiscing of the past, I cannot live.
I hope each tomorrow will make me more aware
of how to release pain to gain more pleasure in life.
It's like the shedding leaves of a Maple tree
in the days of Autumn, yet realizing there is worth
in its bare branched limbs, for as sure as sap flows
in Winter, thoughts in my mind and heart also
produce sugar sweet syrup as its just reward.
There's no chilly Winter when I am discontent.
No moment in Spring when I need to lament
Autumn leaves may fall, but it's Nature's intent
And Summer is the season of personal advent.
Balmy Summer ~ the season of warmer months,
a time when my senses are more closely in tune
and aligned with the setting of an amber sun
when I sit beneath the gently swaying arms
of a willow, clearing my mind of worrisome things.
It's the time of year when in darkness I appreciate
the soft silver glow of the full moon's shimmering light
as it offers me the impetus to write rhyming tercets
while watching millions of shining stars surround Luna
as if she were a ring, and they her diamond baguettes.
In those times, I clear my mind of all white noise
to enjoy the trilling calls of meadowlarks that sing
and watch the flight of tiny sparrows on the wing.
It's when I shed the harness that reins me in
and accept the freedom to merge and cojoin
every part of my being into one distinctive tenant.
One who dwells inside of me with perfect coalescence
of sweet and savory, components that blend
my past and present in a continuum of the here and now,
sewn together with solace, creating a serene soul.
A view of the ragged woodland from
The window:-
Slender branched trees that shed
From high above to low below;
The faint, mauven peaks
Smattered with barely visible
Scatterings of drifted snow;
Across the matted undergrowth
A bronzed carpet of copper coloured
Leaves
Whose rusting hue,
Momentarily ignited by stray
Sunbeams weakly smouldering,
Briefly refurbished -
Deceives with all the colours of a
Rainbow...
From vibrant red through to shy
Hints of indigo;
Those vague outlines indicating
Receding hills;
Here, arising, long ago, every waking
Dawning,
The creaking structures
Of groaning and imposing mills;
Soon a slow thawing that quickly
Spills
Into the trickling replenishments
Of many gushing and silvery little
Rills.
Enchantment gripped me!
And I found myself wistfully
Thinking...
Maybe, perhaps, maybe, somewhere,
Just behind where the great
Flattening Orb
Is now rapidly shrinking,
That I might, by perchance, find,
If I did so hope to bravely dare,
To happen upon a hidden and
Sedentary way of life up there?
That, forgotten, has turned its
Back on the social conflicts
Plagued by the curses of ingrained
Vice;
Encumbering a soul with its petty
Squabblings,
Imposing upon with demands and
Avarice...
When placing unnecessary burdens
On a honest bodies daily call
Of grinding toil and wearisome
Strife!
And still stood,
With hands outstretched upon the
Painted sill,
At the waist half-bent,
Now troubled by quiet mutterings
In an inexplicable sorts
Of self-imposed discontent,
My staid consciousness almost
Unawares,
As, momentarily distracted,
I hesitated, and, unseeing,
Inattentively stared...
Until...
A ragged chapter of cawing Daws,
Loudly jabbering overhead,
Suddenly wheeled -
And upwardly soared!
Whereupon, in murderous haste,
Awkwardly fled
When laboriously stealing away
Back inside the stubbled fields...
Thus causing me to slowly straighten;
Whilst, with a singular heartfelt pang,
Liken a moorland mist slowly rolling
Over
That indivisibly conceals...
Drew shut the sullen curtains, which,
Heavily embroidered with indeterminate
finality,
Dejectedly hang...
Each draped aside of the cold
Reveals.
If you struggle to understand me
You are not alone with this thought
Need a moment to confirm and agree
A questioned mind steals what can't be bought
Friend is the name for those you always trust
I'm not saying that you do or you don't
Sailing on winds of relationship of rust
Right behind an old sinking ship of won't
Behind such reasons, the answers you seek
Like two rivers once branched to the sea
A current we travel both believe weak
Bridge the gaps between doubt or breaks free
Over the years we have decided our fate
Troubled not by the decisions we've made
Water flows freely when feelings stagnate
I came to the conclusion emotions fade
Will we ever know if truth was found
Ease pain from a continued troubled past
Your life and mine soon buried in the ground
Mind that our lives were always miscast
Bridge over Troubled Water Word Acrostic contest
sponsored by Roy Jerden
November transitions slip by
as if in a panicked hurry feigned,
a rush into the season's sky
when cold chilled winds reign.
November skies are dappled blues
interlaced with shaded grays again
as if a storm awaits patient on the sidelines
to whisk into icy drifts and snow lanes.
The leaves still cling to the branched ties
as piles rise against the autumn trance
and the crunch and brittle demise
fills life with stressed-out circumstance.
Bird and squirrel hang about and linger
knowing food will be provided
while others burrow deep or fly south to tinker
accepting living is all but one-sided.
Midday sun glows lightly on the window glass
barely warm at all
and teenage youthful days quickly pass
when school days encumber fall.
The evening shadows race
as sunsets gleam in orange and peach
sliding through the interface
and holidays are just a second out of reach.
November rests thirty days upon the calendar of earth
with birthday celebrations, anniversaries and more
winter paces waiting back and forth
ready and anxious to reveal what lies in store.
Ice flows upon the waters
freezing the surface of the pond
and in the cast of evenings shadows
life races hurriedly on.
IN SAGE TREED INSPIRATION
Standing in the forested arena
Beneath one of the multiplicities
Of the ethnicities of barked sage trees
Reining in the mutual oneness
Of the equanimity of their being,
My spirituality of mind turned its focus
To thoughts of the Crucifixion, Resurrection,
And indeed, the fulfilled glorious Ascension:-
At that moment, it dawned upon me,
The symbolic role that sage trees
Have played in the lives of humanity–
From crosses to branched stages of lynchings–
As living symbolic reminders of life’s tribulations:-
And at that very serene bell ringing moment,
My mind canvassed a profound awareness:
Today’s sage trees stream to us a message
Of faithful resurrection and renewed healing life
As we observe them sojourning nature's seasons
From summer to fall–to winter–and on to spring:-
N.B.: May your mind be likewise canvassed
And enlighteningly streamed with their
Profound sage treed inspiration.
A three branched vine grows
Blossoms ripen into grapes
Pressed and placed in the king's hand
The branches are days
Your office will be restored
King's cupbearer as before
Three baskets on head
Top one has food for the king
Birds eat from bottommost one
The baskets are days
The king will lift up your head
And the birds will eat your flesh
—————
These are the dreams of the cupbearer and the baker, told to Joseph while they were all in prison. Since the sedoka is supposed to use 2 sets of 3 lines to look at the same thing in two different ways, I thought perhaps the dream and its interpretation might work. There's not much room to work with, though!
(From Genesis 40)
© 2011 (Jim Sularz)
On blue ocean’s tide, on midsummer’s ides,
cold steely eyes stirred the deep.
Memories lingered and spied, starred sand dollars died,
where anemone and jellyfish sleep.
Otters bobbed with the waves, some laid back and sun bathed,
in a lazy late morning whim.
Green leaves of a tree, draped in long branched symmetry,
nestled chickadees from a seaside wind.
Dried flowers sighed low, a drop of rain, a rainbow,
soft petals and white feathered clouds.
Caught flying bugs bereft, roared the West winds spent,
ensnarled in a widow’s shroud.
Soaring black-tipped birds, flew small circles as they turned,
sandcastles towered below a butterfly’s grove.
Windowed, crumbled then denied, sunset drenched with the tide,
slowly languished near a lover’s cove.
A steam roller fog, cooled, white blanketed along,
washed ashore like a ghost shipwreck.
Timeworn hands of a man, carved impressions in sand,
and held fast to last summer’s edge.
TO AND IN THE NATURE OF AWARENESS GRACE
A fall morning drive presents an interesting ride.
Looking out into he roadside forest palisade,
Eyes fall upon two age-old stoic trees still clothed
In their branches’ waving illuminating green leaves:-
Like an un-blindfolded statues of liberty, they defiantly stand;
As if easel-like saying, “...a fall comes, but weilded, we will not.”
Struct by this beautiful defiant—first sight—palisade canvassing,
It’s then noticed that in between these two trees, there stood
A thin, naked—seemingly non-barked—skinny branched tree.
Her weakly appearance was if the wind should blow, poor she
And her branches would eventually become little fire-bit-chips;
Yet, just as defiantly, there she and her bowing branches stood.
Once again, nature allegorically canvas another inevitability:
The defiant survival spirit of the “have-nots” in the midst
Of the “haves” in the seasonal challenged of our daily lives.
No matter what may be the oppressive times we must bear,
Hope is the cross of crucifixion and the resurrection thereof;
Like challenged trees, we must likewise stand perpendicular
In undying hope and hope, when challenged by life’s nature:-
With this allegorical canvassing of nature’s divine wisdom and
guidance,
I continue on my drive to my precious labor of love—teaching
the children.
Beseeching, I ask God for traveling graces that I may arrive safe
and sound;
Free from harm, free from causing harm, and freely preventing
any harm.
Likewise, I give God the praises and thanks for another day
above ground;
To be in the nature of His service, by being in and of service
to fellow beings:-